Sorted

This picture was taken in May this year. The Kid would have been six months old. In the mornings, he’d wake up, I’d bring him back to bed with me, feed him a bottle, and he’d fall asleep and I’d leave him to sleep in my bed for an hour or so, while I made The Boyfriend breakfast and packed his lunch for work.

On this particular morning, I came back into the bedroom, and this is what I saw. The Kid sleeping with one hand thrown over his head, and his other hand tucked under his chin. The duvet pulled over his head. It made my heart completely soft with love.

I don’t know about other mommies, but I’m certainly of the firm belief that I love my child the most when he’s asleep. When his face is softened by sleep. His lips are all pouty, and he sleeps with complete abandon and trust. Faith that all is right with the world, and that there’s nothing that mommy and daddy can’t fix.

There’s been a flurry of blog awards going around lately, and I’ve been on the receiving end of a few of them, which is, of course, totally flattering. But I noticed there’s no mommy blog awards. No awards aimed specifically at mommies. No awards that recognise the heart and soul we pour into parenting, and that we splatter onto the virtual pages of our blogs. So I decided to create one, and award some of the special mommies that I read.

Pretty, aint it? Guess how I made it. You’re going to die. I made it in Microsoft Word. Haha, right? I have no design programmes on the laptop, unfortunately, so I improvised. Anyway.

“Life is tough enough without having someone kick you from the inside”. ~Rita Rudner

“You should never say anything to a woman that even remotely suggests that you think she’s pregnant unless you can see an actual baby emerging from her at that moment”. ~Dave Barry, “Things That It Took Me 50 Years to Learn”

“Somewhere on this globe, every ten seconds, there is a woman giving birth to a child. She must be found and stopped. ” ~Sam Levenson

“Love and pregnancy and riding on a camel cannot be hid.” ~Arabic Proverb

“People are giving birth underwater now. They say it’s less traumatic for the baby because it’s in water. But certainly more traumatic for the other people in the pool.” ~Elayne Boosler

Congrats, to MommaNats, who has just found out she’s pregnant with her second. Good luck to you, my friend.

PS: I can’t wait until I can say ‘I told you so. you’re crazy for having a second child voluntarily!’

Have been cooking and baking all evening. For The Kid’s party. Trying to lessen the work on the actual day. So I’m exhausted. Just wanted to share a NaBloPoMo picture with you. Because I have to. 6 more days until it’s over!

I’d kept a pregnancy journal. But there was so much going on while I was pregnant – writing thesis, writing exams, buying house and moving and preparing for baby – that I just kinda let it fall by the way side. Plus, I didn’t think my regular readers on my blog at that time would be interested in pregnancy updates all the time.

Now I regret it. I was thinking about it last night. I don’t actually remember much from my pregnancy, but would like to get down what I do recall. So here it is…

The morning sickness was appalling. Morning sickness my ass. Pregnancy-related illness, I think is what it’s called now. From the second I opened my eyes, until I eventually fell asleep in exhaustion from the projectile vomiting. I didn’t eat for months. Really, I didn’t. I lost like 11kg. My morning sickness lasted about 4 and a half months. Smells really made me feel bad, and it was easy to trigger off the vomiting. The smell of garlic, which I normally love, made me feel so disgustingly ill.

I loved having a tummy. I hated the bloating and water-retention. I loved feeling the baby move inside me. It was like hatching an alien, and feeling it try fight its way out.

The first time The Boyfriend and I went to the gynae, and heard the heart beat, was probably such an instant-bonding experience for us. I don’t think it had sunk in for either of us. But hearing the baby’s heart beat was incredible. It was so fast, and so strong. The Boyfriend’s eyes misted up, and he looked completely enchanted. He was completely besotted with the fact that his baby was growing inside me.

I didn’t get any weird cravings. I didn’t eat coal, or pickles and ice cream, like I’d heard some women did. Except for strawberry milkshake once. And that was it. Other than that, it was all about quantity, when eventually the morning sickness passed. The more the better as far as I was concerned. I got very hungry, and when I was hungry, I needed to be fed immediately. Otherwise I got very cranky.

Maternity clothes were appalling. I hated them with a passion. There was nothing flattering. Fat pants to the max. I was miserable, fashion wise, for months.

I was moody, and very tempermental. I beat The Boyfriend up on a daily basis.

That being said, he looked after me so lovingly. Constantly cooking for me, running me baths, buying me nice things, rubbing my back and telling me I looked lovely. Even though I probably didn’t.

Ante-natal classes were fun. Fun but scary. And it was nothing like you see on tv, with yoga mats, and spread legs and squatting and breathing heavily. It was more like a lecture. But an informative one. One that you actually try to remember, because you know this shit is going to come in handy.

I hated people touching the belly. Unless I knew you and you asked, it annoyed me. People would come up to me in supermarkets, and touch me. Creeped me right out.

I loved it when The Boyfriend used to lie with his head on the belly, talking and singing to The Kid. Those moments were special.

It always seems, like the troubles you’re having right now with your kid(s) are the only ones there have ever been. How quickly you forget the newborn sleepless nights, the waking up three or four times to feed. The nights spent lying on the couch, breastfeeding and clock-watching. The colic that seemed endless.

When people around you with babies complain about the same thing, you find yourself thinking ‘oh, that wasn’t so bad’. How quick we are to forget. And dismiss other people’s problems as trivial. But when you were going through it yourself, it was the end of the fucking world.

How quickly you forget the post-natal depression. And the fact that at one point in time, you despised your baby, and didn’t feel like a mother. Rather you felt like a babysitter. A pair of breasts to feed a little demon. How quickly you forget the denial, and the fervent wishes that you could go back and change things. Not be a mother. Not have a screaming child at 3 in the morning.

How quickly you forget, once your child is sleeping through the night, what it means to be sleep-deprived. And once you’ve achieved sleeping through the night, how simple it seems. And how you try to explain your method to other mothers. Who just don’t seem to get it.

Yes, parenting is hard. Parenting is the most difficult thing I’ve ever had to do. But I’ve learnt one thing. Whatever drama you’re facing now, that seems like the end of the world. It’s only temporary.

It’s a completely new experience for him, and he enjoys every second of it. He squelches food in his hands, mashes it onto his feeding tray and experiences every different texture.

He has not yet learnt about manners, and how to eat with his mouth closed, so when he eats, he focuses completely on enjoyment. He doesn’t worry about getting food on his face, in his hair, down his front or in his ears. He just focuses on the taste and smell.

He’s completely willing to experiment, and will eat anything I put in front of him. Even celery. Although if he doesn’t like something, or has had enough, he’s quick to spit it out, or remove it from his mouth with his hands.

He loves fruit and vegetables. Fresh fruit. As much of it as he can get. I admire his total lack of interest in a spoon or a fork, as well. His fingers and hands serve him perfectly in this regard, and it’s easiest to get the food into his mouth this way.

I think we as adults and so-called ‘civilised people’ worry too much about things like plates and cutlery. Serviettes, and staying clean.

A reminder of where we once were, and how we once ate, as babies, could serve to bring much enjoyment back to meal-times!